


buddy system

by mothraesthetic (burritosong)



Series: December drabbles [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burritosong/pseuds/mothraesthetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>noun.</em> any arrangement whereby two persons monitor and help each other out, ensuring mutual productivity, welfare, and safety.</p><p>(Tsukishima/Yamaguchi mental health buddies having a bad day)</p>
            </blockquote>





	buddy system

**Author's Note:**

> **content note:** mental health issues (someone being depressed, someone with anxiety issues, both of them having a bad mental health day), vague suicide ideation

Tsukishima spends twenty minutes lying in bed, not because he’s too lazy to get up, but just because he can’t seem to actually _get up_. After twenty minutes he starts negotiating with himself to no avail. (There’s strawberry shortcake in the fridge, he can eat that for breakfast but the only way to get it is if he _gets up_. Yes it sucks to get up for morning practice, but morning practice means no afternoon practice, which means he can come straight home and get back in bed but first he has to _get up_. If he doesn’t show up for practice or school, Yamaguchi will worry so he needs to _get up_.) The thing that finally gets him out of bed is the fact that if he stays there any longer the only way he’ll make it to school on time for practice is if he runs and apparently that is where his lousy brain draws the line between acceptable and not. It’s _pathetic_ , and as soon as the the thought is loose it rattles around in his brain, sharp and brittle in contrast to the rest of the dull mush that’s residing there today.

Before walking out the door, he pulls his headphones over his ears and switches them _on_ , relishing in the silence and wishing that it was only that easy to get himself to work properly.

He can tell, as he approaches Yamaguchi, that he’s not the only one having a Bad Day, even if Yamaguchi’s kind of bad day is different from the type of bad day he has.

Yamaguchi offers him a wane smile, and somewhere in the back of his mind Tsukishima wishes he had it in him to offer any kind of greeting back because Yamaguchi probably needs it, but he can’t seem to open his mouth. He tries knocking shoulders with Yamaguchi, but he thinks the touch is too light and brief to make any kind of difference.

Volleyball practice is a struggle on his best days, and on his worst it’s outright torture. All of the energy and movement and noise of his teammates is too much, and Tsukishima has to move, move, _move_. He struggles to jump for each block, even though there’s nothing physically wrong with him, and with each flying fall he debates just staying down on the gym floor in the hopes he’ll be left there alone until he dies.

Yamaguchi doesn’t seem to be doing much better, messing up even simple skills that he’s had down for years, with each mistake doing nothing but piling another hefty load of anxiety on his shoulders.

They catch each other’s gaze across the gym, and there is a brief moment of, _at least someone else understands_ , to comfort themselves with before the whistle blows and they dive back in to practice.

Tsukishima tunes out his teammates’ words in the club room until Hinata’s shrill voice cuts through the static in his head:

“Yamaguchi, since when are you so mean? Tsukishima’s been corrupting you!”

It’s not true, not at all. Yamaguchi’s never been mean, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be just as snide and snarky and sarcastic as Tsukishima, he just has a better brain-to-mouth filter--usually.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tsukishima can see Yamaguchi’s shoulders tense. He struggles to come up with something to say in Yamaguchi’s defense, but his brain feels like a faulty computer--the user keeps putting in the right commands but nothing is happening. Finally he manages to force out, “It’s not mean if it’s true,” but it comes too late to do any good.

(He’s tired of banging on a keyboard that does nothing. He wants his money back. Maybe if he holds the power button down long enough he can reset his brain. Or maybe he just needs to yank the power cord.)

School happens, and that’s the most that Tsukishima could say about it if asked, because volleyball used up whatever meager ability he had to function. After the blur of classes, he and Yamaguchi walk home. When they reach the spot they usually part ways, Yamaguchi tugs on his sleeve to get his attention, and Tsukishima switches his headphones off to hear what he has to say.

“Mom’s out of town on a business trip, do you want to stay over?”

_I don’t want to be alone._

Yamaguchi’s empty apartment is a lot more appealing than his own crowded house, where his parents and Akiteru are sure to be bustling about.

“Sure,” he says, and then switches his headphones back on for the rest of the walk to Yamaguchi’s home.

Neither of them bothers trying to do homework, and instead Yamaguchi puts on a documentary they’ve both already seen. The familiar voice of the narrator can’t penetrate Tsukishima’s headphones, but he’s seen the documentary so many times he has it memorized. He closes his eyes for several minutes, and when he opens them the documentary is at the exact point he thought it would be.

He wants to feel the tiny victory, but it’s drowned out by the loud _nothing_ in his brain.

While Tsukishima sits, staring blankly at the TV, Yamaguchi bustles around his room trying to clean but really only rearranging the mess. Yamaguchi’s room isn’t actually that messy, and even though Tsukishima prefers to keep his room tidier and the small bits of lived-in that make up Yamaguchi’s room don’t usually bother him, for some reason today every little thing out of place seems like a personal attack. Yamaguchi’s constant motion is putting him on edge too. He’d like nothing more than to escape to the cleaner, lonelier, living room, but he stays because Yamaguchi needs him to be there. And if something as little as his presence can help Yamaguchi, he’ll do stay.

Eventually Yamaguchi disappears, only to reappear with instant noodles for both of them. They finish eating and the documentary ends and Yamaguchi puts another in.

Yamaguchi finally _sits down_ , and Tsukishima breathes a sigh of relief at the new stillness in the room, before taking notice of the fact that Yamaguchi isn’t even pretending to pay attention to the documentary.

“You’re not mean,” he says flatly. “And you’re good at volleyball. You practice a lot and it shows and just because you can’t compete with the freak duo doesn’t mean you’re bad.” And because he isn’t sure of exactly what Yamaguchi’s being bothered by goes on. “You’re not dumb. Your grades are good. You’ll get into a good university. You aren’t ugly. Your freckles aren’t gross. No one was laughing about you today, they were laughing about some Vine they saw. You’re a good person. No one hates you. You’re a good friend. I’m not mad you didn’t offer to let me sit in your desk chair. I feel comfortable enough that if i wanted to sit in it I would have just sat in it. I’m not watching the documentary becaues I can’t watch anything right now, not because you made a bad choice. I actually like this one a lot, and you know that, which is why you probably picked it so thank you. And I know this sounds like I’m saying it out of obligation, but I’m not. This is just the most emotion I can summon up right now. Sorry.” 

Tsukshima doesn’t bother switching his headphones off to see if Yamaguchi responds.

After a moment he gets up from where he’d been sitting on the floor for the past few minutes and lies down on Yamaguchi’s bed, staring up at the plastic stars taped to the ceiling. A few minutes later the lights go out, and he rolls over onto his side. It’s uncomfortable wit his headphones still on, but he doesn’t want to take them off until he’s sure Yamaguchi is done moving about.

Finally he feels the mattress dip as Yamaguchi climbs into bed, and Tsukishima sits up to pull his headphones off and so that Yamaguchi can arrange the covers over them. Tsuksihima turns toward the wall, hugging his headphones to his chest for lack of any better place to put them, and he feels Yamaguchi curl up against his back, arms wrapped around him and face pressed to his neck.

Tsukishima doesn’t say anything about the fact that he can feel Yamaguchi’s tears on his skin, because he knows Yamaguchi will never say anything about the fact that Tsukishima’s going to get snot all over his pillowcase.

“It’ll be better tomorrow,” Yamaguchi says, trying to assure both of them at once. “We’ll be better tomorrow.”


End file.
